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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491653">Mr. and Mr. Lucis Caelum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice'>queenhomeslice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Random Promptis One-Shots [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Light Angst, M/M, Promptis - Freeform, Same-Sex Marriage, drunk marriage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:46:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,482</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Noctis and Prompto secretly tie the knot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Random Promptis One-Shots [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>163</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mr. and Mr. Lucis Caelum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Noctis and Prompto stumble back into Noct’s apartment, just drunk enough to need to lean on each other for support, giggling and too close and glossy-eyed, they’re hardly expecting the deluge of light that greets them when Noctis gets the key in the lock on the fifth try.  </p><p>“Noctis,” says Ignis, tall and stern, arms crossed, standing in the living room.  </p><p>Noctis blinks—his apartment is a hell of a lot cleaner than when he left it. “Heeeeeey Specs,” Noctis slurs, sloppy smile on his face.  </p><p>“It’s three in the morning.” </p><p>“Hooooo buddy, that’s late,” says Prompto, grinning at Ignis, all teeth and freckles.  </p><p>Ignis scoffs and approaches the two boys. “Where were you?” </p><p>“With...Gladio,” Noctis says with certainty.  </p><p>“Try again, Princess!” comes a gruff voice from down the hall, followed by a flushing toilet.  </p><p>“Uhhhhhhh,” says the prince. “With...Prompto!” He squeezes the lanky blond closer to himself. “We were...getting married.” </p><p>All color drains from Ignis’ face. He’d suspected that Noctis would take his fleeting attraction to his best friend too far, but never <em>this </em>far. “What,” he repeats.  </p><p>“What’s what?” Gladio says, coming into the living room. He wrinkles his nose. “Gods, you two reek of piss and cheap liquor.” </p><p>“It’s the smell of love,” says Prompto, planting a fat wet kiss on Noct’s cheek.  </p><p>The prince stares up at Ignis as Prompto kisses him, beaming. “Married,” repeats Noctis. He’s not so far gone that he doesn’t remember stealing into the shitty chapel with Prompto barely an hour earlier, spilling his guts (figuratively and literally), signing a marriage license with all the grace of a first-grader, pulling matching rings from his pocket that he’d been carrying around for six months.  </p><p>Ignis grabs his left hand and examines the titanium black band on the prince’s finger. “This is hardly legally binding, Noct.” </p><p>“What, seriously? You guys got <em>married </em>?” Gladio steps forward to the young men and grabs Prompto’s hand, looking from his ring to Noct’s. “Your dad is gonna shit his pants.”  </p><p>“Is so legal,” says Prompto, groaning and squinting his eyes. “Imma prince now. You gottaaaaaaa...do what I say.” </p><p>“Who were the witnesses?” asks Ignis, already pulling out his cell phone to do damage control. </p><p>“Some...chick. Knockers as big as your head,” Noctis giggles.  </p><p>“And the Elvis impersonator!” Prompto exclaims, having a moment of clarity. “Oh, he sounded <em>jusssssss </em>’ like him. ‘But I....can’t help...falling...in love...with...yoooouuuuu!’” Prompto croons, burying his face in Noct’s neck.  </p><p>Gladio can’t help it anymore—he doubles over in laughter as he drops Prompto’s thin wrist. He's crying laughing, holding his stomach, filling the apartment with raucous sounds of joy.  </p><p>Noctis starts laughing with him, and fumbles in his jeans pocket for a folded-up piece of paper and holds it out to his adviser.  </p><p>Ignis snatches it and unfolds it, scowl deepening the more he reads. He sighs, defeated, and turns to Gladio. “Snap out of it, will you, Gladiolus!” He swats Gladio on the shoulder and hands him the wrinkled marriage license.  </p><p>Gladio’s still giggling as he takes the paper and reviews it—it's all there: the legalities, the signature of an actual ordained minister from the Devoted Church of Shiva, the signatures of Noctis and Prompto (though questionable in their legibility), the notary seal, the eyewitness statements from the random woman and the musician. Gladio lowers the paper, looks from the boys, back to Ignis, back to the boys, back to Ignis. He shrugs. “Guess we got ourselves two princes, Iggy.” </p><p>“You are bloody useless.” </p><p>“Looks pretty legally binding to me.” </p><p>“Would you just help me get these two idiots into bed?” Ignis swipes the marriage license back and throws it on the coffee table, tearing Noctis away from Prompto. </p><p>“Nooooooo,” the prince drawls as Iggy picks him up, bridal-style, and carries him to his bedroom. “Muh’husband,” he cries as he weakly reaches out to Prompto.  </p><p>Gladio snorts and picks Prompto up over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  </p><p>“Where we goin’,” says the blond.  </p><p>“To bed, so you can sleep it off, Blondie.” </p><p>“Ooooooooh,” he says. “Hey Gladio...” </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Does this mean you’re my shield too?” </p><p>Gladio chuckles and pats Prompto’s ass. “Sure thing, kid.” </p><p> </p><p>_____ </p><p> </p><p>The next day, Noctis and Prompto don’t get out of bed until nearly noon. They wake with pounding headaches, but there are bottles of water and aspirin on the bedside tables, as well as cups with half a potion in each. The boys drink up and take the medicine, feeling at least 75% better within seconds. They hear commotion from the living room and look at each other, grinning.  </p><p>“Dude,” says Noctis, getting out of bed and stripping. “We’re <em>married</em>.” </p><p>“Yeah,” breathes Prompto, blushing at the nude form of his prince—his husband. “I’m...I’m Mr. Lucis Caelum.” </p><p>Noctis snorts. “C’mon, Prince Prompto. Let’s shower. I feel like shit.” </p><p>“Well, you look just fine to me.” Prompto winks and follows Noctis into the big bathroom to shower.  </p><p> </p><p>When they emerge, Prompto in borrowed sweats, shirt, and underwear, Ignis and Gladio are back, looking as though they haven’t slept at all—along with Regis himself, and Clarus.  </p><p>Noctis waves casually and tries to go to the kitchen. He’s <em>starving. </em>“Hey Dad,” he says.  </p><p>“Good morning, Noctis,” says Regis, smirking. The king doesn't stop his son.  </p><p>“Uh, hi, King Regis, your Majesty, sir!” Prompto stiffens and gives a nervous bow.  </p><p>Regis chuckles. “Come now Prompto, no need to be so formal with your father-in-law.” </p><p>Prompto blinks, feeling the color rise to his cheeks as he stares at the king. He smiles softly. “Oh, uh, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah.” </p><p>Regis looks back up at Ignis. “It is legally binding, Ignis.” </p><p>The adviser sinks into the couch. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have allowed Noct to have so much freedom. We should’ve barred him from dating...” </p><p>Prompto turns sharply on his heel, not wanting to get his feelings hurt any more than they already are. He knew that he probably wasn’t Iggy’s favorite person, but he didn’t realize he’d be such a pariah. Besides, it was all Noct’s idea, wasn’t it? He’d had the rings, after all, and had actually gotten down on one knee in front of Prompto outside of the club—what was Prompto supposed to do? Say no to his best friend—his boyfriend? Break his heart? Prompto would rather fling himself into oncoming traffic than to hurt Noctis.  </p><p>Noct is standing in front of the open fridge, pulling out cold pizza that’s two days old. He turns. “Hey,” he says, smiling.  </p><p>Prompto bites his lip and turns away, tears betraying him. “Ignis is <em>so </em>mad, dude,” he sniffs. “He...he <em>hates </em>me...” </p><p>Noct kicks the fridge shut and envelopes his husband in a crushing hug. Prompto grips him back instantly, holding him like a lifeline, sniffling into his neck.  </p><p>Ignis, Gladio, and Regis come into the kitchen minutes later. The boys are still holding each other, Prompto still crying out his insecurities into Noct’s <em>Assassin’s Creed </em>t-shirt.  </p><p>“Noctis,” says Regis, putting a hand on his shoulder.  </p><p>Noct levels his gaze at his retainers and at his father. “You’re not breaking this up. I’ll renounce my title if that’s what it takes.” </p><p>Ignis cards his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “No one’s breaking you up, Noct.” </p><p>Regis grins. “However, there are conditions—you must have a public ceremony. The people deserve to know who their new prince is.” </p><p>Noctis gasps, and smiles. “Done,” he says. He noses at Prompto’s ear. “Didja hear that Prom? We have to get married <em>again</em>.” </p><p>Prompto gives one final sniff and lifts his head, turning to the other three men. “Are you...serious?” </p><p>“Totally serious,” says Regis. He claps Prompto on the shoulder. “But for now—welcome to the family, Prompto.” </p><p>Prompto laughs breathlessly, and flings himself at Regis, hugging him tightly.  </p><p>Regis chuckles and holds Prompto like his own son. “There still is the question of succession,” Regis shrugs. “But there’s plenty of time to deal with that.” </p><p>Noctis folds his arms. “Can’t we just like, find a surrogate? I’ll be a sperm donor. Artificial insemination, or whatever.” </p><p>“Yes, yes, we’ll get to it.” Regis waves his hand. “No need to rush, son.” </p><p>Prompto steps back, wiping his eyes, and grabs Noct’s hand. “I...thank you, all of you,” he says, making eye contact with Ignis. “I promise I’ll do my best to...be a good prince. A-and stuff.” </p><p>Gladio snorts.  </p><p>Ignis sighs and adjusts his glasses. “You will commit to daily lessons with me, Prompto. I believe I can give you a crash course in royal formalities, history, and court etiquette.” </p><p>Prompto nods. “Oh, yeah, sure. Anything.” He squeezes Noct’s hand. His stomach growls. “But uh. Can I have breakfast first?” </p><p>Noctis just laughs, and kisses his husband on the cheek.  </p>
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